


Next to You

by my_angel_misha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Just a fluffy little ficlet, M/M, Sleeping Together, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but in the literal sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 13:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18235664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_angel_misha/pseuds/my_angel_misha
Summary: Dean is used to waking up with a warm body against his own.Waking up next to a man, though, is new.





	Next to You

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little something I wrote on my tumblr, and decided to move here, because I thought it was cute.
> 
> Find the original post, here:  
> https://dean-wears-lace.tumblr.com/post/183698397879/tooth-rotting-fluff

Dean Winchester was used to waking up next to people, early in the morning, before the sun rose. He’d slip away silently, get dressed, and leave without a single sign that he’d ever been there. It was the Winchester way, through and through.

That’s why, when Dean woke up on a Saturday morning, a warm, solid body pressed against his own, he thought nothing of it, and made a move to slip away - but a couple things stopped him.

One, he was in his own bed in the bunker, and he didn’t remember bringing anyone home the previous night (“Never to the bunker - it’s a secret.” Sam had chastised him a couple years back upon Dean bringing some pretty young woman home).

Two, the arm that was slung around his waist was strong - surprisingly so for a woman. His eyes were still closed as he curiously brought his fingers up to run along the arm that was holding him a bit tighter than he was used to. Hair. A man?

Dean’s fingers retracted in surprise, his eyes slipping open just in time to hear a low hum of content from the gentle touch to his sleeping bedpartner’s arm.

A dark mop of hair was the first thing Dean saw, followed by the oh-so-familiar features of his best friend and angel. The angel seemed to be peacefully asleep, his dark eyelashes fluttering a bit as he mumbled something unintelligible.

Before Dean could freak out and roll out of bed, Cas’ sleepy blue eyes were on him, eyebrows furrowed together in a way that made Dean want to smile.

“Hello, Dean,” He mumbled in his deep baritone, seemingly even rumblier than usual. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Dean took a moment, clearing his throat and ignoring the incessant pounding of his heart that he could feel in every extremity on his body.

“You’re fine, Cas - I just... How did you get here?” Dean’s voice was hushed, as if he didn’t want to ruin the moment, or break the serene silence of their surroundings.

“I had some trouble sleeping last night, so I decided to come join you here.” Castiel murmured quietly, having the decency to look just a little ashamed - too ashamed for Dean’s liking.

“Hey,” Dean whispered, his fingers moving back to Cas’ arm, where they skated gently across his sleep-flushed skin. “It’s alright - I don’t mind.” He breathed out, finding his eyes drawn to the angel’s once again.

“I get them too...” Dean said quietly, referring to the nightmares, which no doubt plagued the angel as much as they did him.

Cas merely nodded, his arm tightening and then relaxing, goosebumps spreading up and over his fair skin. “Thank you for understanding.” He whispered, his eyes shutting again slowly.

Dean felt a smile pulling his lips upwards, before he could even do anything about it. “Anything for you, Cas.” He whispered under his breath, resuming the soft stroking of his fingers against Castiel’s skin.

The hunter hadn’t meant for Castiel to hear his words, but when the angel’s teeth peeked through, his lips pulling up into a gorgeous smile, Dean couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Let’s go back to sleep for a while.” Dean breathed, his voice as soft as a feather, awe evident in the way he spoke.

His own eyes fell shut again, and his fingers only paused when he felt the last strings of consciousness transition into a blissful sleep - more blissful, in fact, than he’d ever experienced.

And when he began spending two days a week waking up in Cas’ arms, nobody mentioned it, or found it out of the ordinary.

And then three days.

Four,

Five, Six, Seven.

Who was he to mention it, really? 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment if you enjoyed.


End file.
